An Acolyte's Story
by finmagikfinmagikearthlink.ne
Summary: Lysandra an Acolyte talks about her feelings for her life long friend and employer


An acolyte's Story 

He sighs and brushes a strand of dark brown hair out of his face. He removes his   
glasses and turns slowly to me his wide sparkling hazel eyes looking at me, but not looking. Without those glasses he's   
nearly blind. 

"Now Lysa, we'll try it again. This time I suggest you connect S wire to the Z40 conduit." He says. I watch his lips move,   
hearing the words, I nod mechanically. 

He puts his glasses back on and adjusts them. 

White sparks fly across the concrete basement. It's very large for a basement and filled with tables of schematics,   
charts, and blackboards covered in scribbled formulae, weird things with colored lights, and a large steel reinforced   
folding wall. The florescent lights flicker in and out. I walk over to the hulking metal behemoth that at the moment is   
sending out the sparks. I hate to say it but I forget which is the S-wire or the Z40 conduit as I get down on my knees and   
peer around at the exposed panel of wires. 

I look back at him, should I ask him? There he stands, looking over at this machine his master piece, his sweat and   
blood, his child. His brow is furrowed in thought, he absent mindedly is chewing his upper lip. 

God, he doesn't know what that does to me. How it makes me feel, he hasn't the slightest idea. There he stands   
though. I can't help myself in looking. His hair is dark brown almost black, it's short I've never seen it in any other cut   
than a crew-cut, but it's been a while since he got a haircut and it's grown a bit wilder and uncombed. He has this face with   
funny little arched almost questioning eyebrows, they seem to give him a confused, depressed look to his face. His whole   
face is boyish and caries that same adorable confused innocence, and the thing that often dominated by a thick pair of   
unattractively black framed glasses, these things have shielded him from actually seeing himself in the mirror, he has no   
idea what he turly looks like without them. He's wearing a lab coat over a sweater vest and gray pants and he's scrawny   
and his skin is unmistakably pale from underexposure to the sun. He doesn't know it, but I love him. 

"You said the S wire, right, ummmm...." I say looking at the mess off wires in the panel. I don't know what to called him   
Arion, his name, which I grew up calling him or perhaps Mr. Power out of respect. 

"Yes, Lysa I meant the S-wire." He sighs I can hear his footfalls coming closer to me, he's clearly frustrated. This   
thing-Some sorta interphasic inverter plasmic distribution ray a fancy term for blows up technocrats and nephandi. He has   
been working on it for over a year and now in the dead of night or morning I think it's one am.... has malfunctioned for the   
millionth time. But he won't give up on it and let it die, Which in my HUMBLE opinion is the ONLY OPTION. He's reconnected all the wires,   
changed the schematics and formula so many times. 

"I think it deserves my attention Lysandra." I can hear him say. I get up from the panel. He bends over and inspects it   
chewing his lip and furrowing his brow. He has no idea where the S-wire is either. I stifle a laugh. He glances up at me   
again, then back at the machine. "Hmmmm.... maybe if I just...." He removes what it is belevied to be the S-wire to the Z40 conduit and   
then there is a loud groan from all corners of the lab and the the flickering florescent lights, the buzzing whirring blinking   
red and blue ones, the seizure inducing yellow ones and those annoying green ones all go out. We are in pitch black   
darkness. "Connecting the S-wire to the Z40 conduit was incorrect apearently..... I guess I was wrong....." He sighs in   
the darkness. 

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED, OVER THERE ARI?" Comes the harsh yell from the other side of the wall. His mother   
Dr. Maxine Power. A click is heard in and a door is heard turning, Maxine steps through the door. I can't see her standing   
there in the darkness I know it is her. 

"What did you do this time Arion Norbert Power?" She asked sighing. 

"Ma-Mother, I just-" He begins. 

"Don't 'Mother' me! You blew out the power grid again! Look I was in the middle of something very important and   
besides If you keep doing this EVERY other week, We'll have the technocracy down on us in no time!" She bellows. 

"Yes, Moth- Dr. Powers." He mutters quietly. 

"Okay, fine. Gudger, get in here!" She Yells back into her section of the lab. 

A Grumbling is in heard and the Disconcerting sounds of clanging and crashing. Gudger is Maxine's Acolyte. 

"Gudger, get the self illuminating spherical object # 27 from the chamber." Maxine sighs.   


Coming through the darkness is a soft green light, I could see it through the crack in the door slowly getting nearer   
and nearer and brighter, brighter. Like the infamous mako station light. Softly it came into the darkened room. A glowing   
pulsing sphere, held by some darkened handle, in Gudger's calloused hands.   
The light danced on the walls almost making a tunnel through the darkness. 

"Gudger! How come that thing is low?" Maxine growled. "It isn't any better than no light at all! I guess it didn't have enough   
time to recharge from the LAST TIME."   
Gudger says nothing, in the darkness and only thing that was soft whirring of the device. "Bring it over here, to the fuse   
box." I watched the light move across the large room shadows flickering the darkness of its wake. Seeming to be totally   
separated from the human carrying it below. There is a metallic creak, few muttered curses, some not so muttered curses, and   
sparks of pure white light. All of sudden with another greater, moan, whir and chitter all the lights are back on the red and   
blue ones, the seizure inducing yellow ones, and unfortunately the green ones.   
Maxine stands there gloating at her infinite resourcefulness. She's a rather large woman at younger age she was called   
voluptuous but after her husband's death has let her self go quite a bit. Her hair is the same color as Arion's brown. But it is   
far longer up in a sloppy bun and streaked with shocking white. She's always been aggressive, brash, opinionated and has   
perpetual glare marking her face. She is dressed in a a large long black jumper. She stands not just occupying the space but   
conquering it. She could easily be summed up in two words: battle-ax.   
Behind her is Gudger, beady eyed, lanky, almost bald expect for an orange shock of hair that stands up straight in the   
middle of his scalp. He has never worn anything to memory but a white T-shirt and over it a pair of overalls stained with   
bleached and other things. He always seems like he's on verge of insanity. Standing always very tense and looking like a   
caged animal. Then again Gudger has been electrocuted, Set on fire, fallen from cliffs, shot at numerous times, fed poisons   
attacked by some nasty creatures, has lost three fingers and suffered through countless other things. So I suppose it's only   
logical he's half mad. Gudger doesn't talk much he grunts more and when he does he talks in the thickest southern accent and   
he always smells like Kerosene.   
I notice Arion slumped over sitting on the floor, His hands clutching his face, he's so ashamed. I hate to see that woman   
dress him down over and over again. I know he tries. But he's always been in his parent's shadow and this is just a reminder that   
shatters his self-confidence. I want to make him feel better, I want to reach out and touch him, stroke his cheek hold him in   
my arms, I want to kiss him and make all the sadness and melancholy go away from him forever. But we haven't had physical   
contact ever since we got in that fight at five.   
He looks up at me again. That always awkward look on his face. That's when I realize it. I'm sitting on the floor too, only   
about twelve inches apart from him. Geez, how'd this happen? What's wrong with me? Can't I just stay away from him? Is my   
desire this great? I look at him, I must be blushing like a fool. He looks at me completely clue less, or maybe he does know   
and the innocence of his face hides it. No wait he's clue less. 

"I ummmm have to go....Arion. you know go home get some rest...." I lie. 

"Oh, really? Well you better be here bright and early tomorrow. I'm on the cusp of something, something big. I know it this   
time." He says looking up at me with those bright eyes, confidence renewed eager for the next day a new challenge. 

"Okay, I'll make sure to be quiet I know how your Mom likes her sleep." I say as I ascend the stairs. 

I get up to the first floor and I the feeling of depression fills me. Why, am I doing this? I think making my way towards   
the door. I know what I'm doing is unhealthy, chasing a man who will never see me more as anything accept a friend. I swore I   
would never get into that trap with him and how he could unconsciously twist my emotions in knots. But it happened. I let it   
happen, I lead myself down that familiar path of idiotic schemes and dreams. I still walk that path. 

I'm almost out of that house. My fingers are just about to clutch the handle. But I turn, for some unknown reason. There is   
full length mirror catty corner to the door. I've pasted it millions of times. I've looked in it millions of times. 

There I stand. Clear blue eyes surrounded by naturally thick lashes, a tiny nose with the faintest dotting of freckles,   
pouting lips. Perfectly arched, plucked, thin eyebrows. He doesn't notice. A oval face, framed by thick sausage Alburn- curls,   
that fall to my shoulders. He doesn't notice this. My long, slender arms with tapering graceful fingers and nails painted a   
deep alluring red. He didn't even glance at them. The old, white tank top, I am wearing it clings to the curves of my breasts   
under it I often wear a thin bra, the hem of this shirt barely covers my naval, exposing my small flat stomach. He doesn't care.   
I have a naval ring piercing it. He hasn't noticed this. My thin smooth long legs, dangle from tight, tiny sloppy cut-offs that   
effectively showcase my-aah, He hasn't noticed, or at least I've never caught him staring. My feet are tiny but covered with   
heavy black workboots. Wearing sandals in this place would be insane. 

I frown. Any man would want me. I've been hit on by all sorts of men. Why do I waste my time? I can feel the mixture of   
anger and sadness, rising in in me, turning my stomach into knots.   
I get in the car and battle the salty tears, I deeply fear are forming in my eyes. Don't drive angry. I tell myself. How the hell,   
can I not be angry! I think pulling out of their driveway. I drive down the familiar street, my old house is on the corner,   
almost across from his. 

Ever since I had been able to run out of my house. I was fascinated with that large dark tumble-down house and the odd,   
shy, lonely, boy that lived within. I alone was able to convince him into being my friend. I remember how strange I thought   
his family was: his mother always angry all the time, his father who was so hen-pecked and introverted that I assumed he was   
mute for ten years, Gudger who had me convinced for many years that if given any time alone with together, he would eat me   
and finally Arion's older sister Mitzi (her real name was Millicent but she'd hurt anybody who called her that) who at the age   
of seven was sent to juvenile hall for a crime nobody can quite remember seeing her commit, and has been in and out of the   
criminal justice system ever since. 

Things begin to look very familiar as the conformist suburban houses and lawns give way, to a boxy, flat public school:   
Elmwood elementary. Darkness is inside the windows, those echoing halls, darkness covers the swing set and the black top. I   
defended him here, stood up every time there was a slight said against him, acted as a shield when ever someone tried to beat   
him up and I gave him lunch when somebody stole his. Needless to say I 'Four-eye's girlfriend' wasn't going to win the   
popularity contest. But I didn't care, he was my friend and I was his best and only friend.   
  
The road takes a sharp turn here. If I didn't stop reminiscing and start driving I'll be road pizza.   
Why the hell can't I get him outta my head?! I had been away for seven years in college and my life was just fine, I dated   
other men, I had friends, I was majoring in psychology, In fact I just finished an Internship at a prestigious mental care   
facility and was assured I would start a career very soon. I had just stopped home to touch base with my mother. 

I turned on the radio desperately trying to rid myself of these feeling and the failure in my   
heart.   
Then the news came his father had died in a car accident (Which I found out later was actually a Paradox backlash.) being   
a friend of the family I had to attend the funreral. I swore I wouldn't get involved with that passive/agressive, detached, man again.   
But The day of the funeral we had decided to car pool and he appeared at my front stoop standing there chewing his lip,   
furrowing his brow, scraping his foot against the concrete. I had only talked to him over the phone and in person he seemed   
more handsome then I had remembered. I felt like the same skinny, blushing, nervous teenager when I answered the door to   
meet him. 

The radio plays on, the same type of songs. As I enter the city Evlinville, my home town. 

He hadn't seemed to change at all, but he had changed so much more than I could ever guess. And when he told me   
finally, I was amazed but not surprised his family had always been strange. 

I sigh looking out at the darkened streets. The radio plays songs of love, Love is everything, wonderful and how it just   
'PEACHY' to be in love. They don't know the hell of the lovelorn! Or how you can send someone every signal in the book   
and they just seem to ignore it! 

The only reason I became his acolyte was because I thought there might be a slight glimmer of a chance that he felt that   
way about me and he would say so. But there is nothing.... 

I reach over to turn off the radio, but I don't. I brush the dial? I must have because the station changes. A gravely voiced   
Dee-Jay comes on:   
"This is K-RAZE radio your home for music, Now here's Cake (No, not the kind you eat Idiots) with FRIEND IS A   
FOUR LETTER WORD." 

An acoustic guitar begins to play in minor key the same strain, a man's monotone voice begins to sing over it: 

"To me coming from you,   
friend is a four letter word.   
End is the only part of the word that,   
I heard call me morbid   
or absurd.   
But to me, coming from you friend is   
a four letter word." 

I can feel a warm tear rolling down my cheek slowly then another and another. The song plays on drums, now keeping   
the beat, a trumpet whining on and the same monotone voice: 

"When I go fishing for the words,   
I am wishing,   
only praying   
that the words you say   
might betray the way   
you feel about me." 

The song consumes me, I am lost in sad winding melody pathetic body and my weak soul are torn on the waves of these   
words. 

I don't bother to try and stop crying. I know I can't. What I'm doing is dangerous, I shouldn't be driving like this. Tears   
blurring my vision. Thoughts of him running through my mind. 

My eyes are to blurred to see the road ahead. Then something jolts me out of the sadness. The feel and the sound of a dull   
thud as the car hits something, something large.   
I slam down on the brakes and leap out my car, heart pounding in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

My eyes search the pavement in front of the car. I quickly find what I'm looking for: a girl in her early teens perhaps   
thirteen or so. I kneel down for a closer look. Her hair is short in a china girl it looks like a stiff package black dyed mass.   
She looks strung out emaciated and pale. She is wearing a tiny dress nothing but strips of black lace, torn fishnet stockings   
and a pair of chunky black varnish shoes. Her eyes are closed gently and she's breathing softly. 

I suppose I didn't hurt her. But I can't leave her here. It wouldn't be right. Who knows what could happen to her on these   
darkened city streets. If the stories I've heard in whispers from Maxine are correct. I'll take her home and then figure out to   
what do with her in the morning. 

I pick up her featherlight body and lay it in the back seat gently. I look down at her. Did she just open her eyes? Did she   
just smile? I glance back, no she lays there deep asleep. 

The radio plays static and silence where a minute ago there was a station.   
I drive on home to my apartment. 

The sun glares through the windshield. I squint and pull down the visor. It's morning, and way to bright for this early. I   
glance in the rearview. The girl sits there glaring sullenly at me, from the back seat. She doesn't talk. But at least she   
obeys me. 

"Not much of a talker, are you?" I call to the back seat. She doesn't replie but just stares vacantly at a point somewhere   
beyond the dashboard. "I'm sorry I hit you." I say to the empty silence. I might as well be talking to myself. She   
continues to stare blankly. Worrisome thoughts rush through my mind about her and the impact of the car. "Your okay   
right?" She nods slightly. That's good its progress. Maybe I can ask her again the question I've been asking all morning.   
"What's your name?"   
Silence again. She glares at me from under her hair. How can I help someone who's name I don't even know? I pull   
up to the curb. Evlinville department of Social services. A large gray stone building a cube girdled in Greco-Roman   
columns, looking extremely out of place and pretentious, for something in a back-water city were most buildings aren't   
above two stories and wooden.   
I lead her out of the car and into the building. I watch her walk through the revolving doors. Then something happens   
she turns and smiles at me. strange, Then turns around and disappears into the cold, echoing halls. 

I drive through the suburban streets, that seemed so desolate and unforgiving the following night. Now, they are   
bathed in sunlight, greenery of the precisely manicured lawns, the trees and the sounds of birds.   
The light follows me as I make the turn at the dented, gray, mailbox with the chunky, plain black letters painted on it. I   
can hear the gravel under my tires as I go down the winding driveway. 

I give a short laugh thinking about Arion: 'I don't live with my Mom. I live in a loft over the garage.' That skin and bones   
loft only a place to crash after a day spent at the lab. Though, the garage is unconnected from that house and his mom.   
Also it does give him a bit more privacy....Privacy for what? I sigh and park the car. 

I climb the rickety stairs leading up to the loft, as I do different scents meet me. Coffee? And   
something.....something... burning.   
What thehell is going on up there? 

I reach the top of the stairs and enter the loft it's small but looks bigger because of the lack of furnishings and it's only   
divided into two rooms. 

There's Arion dressed and pressed, in the far corner. The kitchenette. Making breakfast? Wha? 

"Hello, Ari." I say as I walk in. "Why ya making breakfast, I thought you only ate those dehydrated nutrients packets,   
after the toast-o-matic 3000 malfunctioned." I manage to spit out with out having my simple mouth tripping over any of   
those words. 

Arion turns around looks at me, That small strand of hair of very dark glistening hair falling onto his forehead,   
mischievously. With a doubly confused, cute sexy little expression his face. "I decided that I required something with a   
flavor different then cardboard." He looks nervously over at the black cast iron pan smoking on the stove.   
"Unfortunately my limited knowledge of the culinary arts and experience in the kitchen, have made this a..... failure." 

I smirk slightly at him. "Don't worry Ari, all is not lost I can make you something." I smile casually striding over to the   
kitchenette. Dispatching the contents of the pan into the trash. 

"Thank you Lysandra." He says flashing me rare smile. 

I whirl around scooping up a cutting board, some scallions? Where on earth.... why on earth? I shake my head and   
begin to chop the scallions. Arion hovers behind me. I smile slightly and sigh. "Arion, what are you doing?" 

"I'm going to do the dishes?" I can hear him say. I don't glance up from the scallions or turn my head, to face him. 

"Look, I'll do those, you pay me to be your assistant. You.. just sit somewhere.." I say still not looking up. 

"Okay." He answers. But oddly enough he doesn't sit down, but hovers closer behind me. 

Groaning, but not turning to face him. "Weren't you going to sit down?" I ask. The irritation unmasked in my voice. 

"I was but, I just want to observe your chopping technique instead." He says. Moving ever closer behind me. 

I can almost feel him upon me, so close. I chop the scallions neater now, slower now, stroke by stroke, cleaner each   
one a perfect cylinder. He's so close. I can smell the musky odor of his after shave old spice. My face relaxes into a   
smile. "Mmmmm... I thought....you didn't use that anymore, because of the hives." 

"No, that was a different one with a different chemical composition, this a new one." He says a in silken whisper. 

"Well, I always thought old spice suits you Ari." I titter, feeling a flush of warmth as the blush travels into my face. Oh,   
god I hope it isn't out of line.   
All of a sudden, he places as a firm hand on the bare skin of my shoulder. Then He twirls me around to face him.   
There is a cocky half smile on his face, and mischief sparkling in his bright hazel eyes, he'd taken off those glasses.   
"Ms. Corman. You must show me the proper respect you MUST address me as Mr. Power from now on, after all I am   
your employer. I would enjoy if you didn't comment on my scent!" He is still smiling. He grabs my other shoulder and   
shoves me into a rough kiss. My eyes widen.   
I push away, I look at him and smile. 

"Mr. Power, that is harassment, and I cannot be expected to take it." I say in a tone of mock seriousness. Then I kiss   
him. Placing the knife on the kitchen counter. Lost in him and having this moment finally arrive. His arms wrap around   
my neck. I place my hands around his back.   
Something is wrong his teeth nick my tongue, almost biting it. I pull back from the kiss slowly. "Arion dear, your   
biting me." I say. 

"Oh, I am?" He says. Then he goes in for another long kiss. "Good." He mutters. And then he bites down hard on my   
tongue, I can taste warm liquid with the dull metallic taste: blood in my mouth. Oh god! He's monster, my Arion's a   
monster! Oh, shit! The frightened thoughts run through my mind. I struggle for a knife its just outta my reach as I grope   
blindly for it. I open my mouth. 

"Don't scream, god Lysa don't." He says. "Never knew the real me? Did you? Never knew I like it with pain? Did   
you?" He says his green eyes glaring at me. "Don't scream, No one will hear you." I can feel his hands tightening   
around my neck, his grip is so strong. I gasp for air. But I can't get it. I gasp and gasp. I look at his face. It's twisted with   
lust, rage, and sadness. "But Lysandra, I've wanted for so long. But I can't. I can't bear to watch you suffer physically or   
emotionally. Your to dear to me, to see that pain in your eyes." His hands tighten and I flaie about trying to do something.   
I'm helpless and he's a madman. What is he going to do to me! He's a monster! I never guess it! And look at him. He's   
crying now! HE's mad! I gasp for breath and try to scream. Everything goes black. 

I scream the chill of cold sweat is all over me. I look around in with a frenzied gaze. The sun is coming in the   
windows, the sparrows are chirping. I'm in my own bed. I take a deep breath. Thank god, only a dream. Arion would   
never.... would he? I don't know him in that way....he doesn't have that side.   



End file.
